


to endure

by Verbrennung



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bittersweet, Future Fic, Gen, Iwaizumi Hajime/Original Character - Freeform, M/M, Past Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, no one ends up together, there's your explicit warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25183693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verbrennung/pseuds/Verbrennung
Summary: There was a time when neither of them would think twice about calling the other immediately with good news. Hajime is still working on not shouldering the blame for these things.Ten years after graduating high school, Oikawa comes home to Miyagi and insists on a four-man reunion with Iwaizumi, Hanamaki and Matsukawa. Even years after their breakup, Iwaizumi and Oikawa have never quite managed to transition back to how it was before their romantic relationship. It’s hard to know for sure when you’re ready for that, but they’ll figure it out. True friendship always endures, after all.A story about moving on, and how endings don't always mean the end ofeverything.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	to endure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Valkyree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkyree/gifts).



> Commission for AO3 user Valkyree!! Thanks again for your understanding and patience, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Commission details:  
> “I would like to commission a fic with Seijoh 3rd years!! Like they’ve all gone their separate ways, Iwaoi broke up etc. Now they all meet each other after like 10-15 years at their high school reunion. Someone’s married, the other has a kid, one is engaged and other is in fwb. I just want the fic to be bittersweet and don’t want Iwaoi/Matsuhana to end up with each other at the end of the story!!”
> 
> I'll reiterate this again in case you've somehow missed it: none of the Seijou 3rd years end up together in this fic!! There's also some Iwaizumi/OC too! You have been warned

The email arrives in his inbox on an otherwise insignificant weekday in March. The days are still chilly, the spring buds are yet to bloom, and Hajime is sitting at the counter of a tiny ramen shop with his tie flipped over his shoulder to keep it away from his bowl.

He blinks once at the enthusiastic subject line, the one anomaly in the dumpster fire of spam that is his personal inbox. Putting his chopsticks down, Hajime instead rests his chin in his hand as he taps his thumb against his phone screen to open the message:

> **Subject: AN IMPORTANT MESSAGE FROM CAPTAIN OIKAWA**
> 
> Ya-ho～!
> 
> It’s been a while, hasn’t it?
> 
> I’m planning to come home for a few days during Golden Week so
> 
> Let’s have a 4-man school reunion!!! \\( ◕ ヮ ◕ ) /
> 
> I’m thinking somewhere close to the school would be fun, right?
> 
> If you have recommendations, please let me know～
> 
> Please RSVP! After we’ve chosen the place I’ll message everyone again!
> 
> Looking forward to it!!!!
> 
> Oikawa ★

Ah, shit. Hajime unfurls his fingers, shifting his hand to cover his mouth so as not to offend to friendly uncle behind the counter with his new, severe frown.

Golden Week—that’s in just over a month. He double-checks the other recipients just to confirm they are indeed Matsukawa and Hanamaki; if it’s only the four of them he can’t really get away with bailing, it’d probably be too transparent. And really, he should be grateful they’re going to be there. At the very least it’ll be a buffer.

And if Oikawa’s coming home and making the effort he really should, too.

With that half-hearted conviction in his arsenal he types out his reply. Its characteristically succinct:

> **Re: AN IMPORTANT MESSAGE FROM CAPTAIN OIKAWA**
> 
> Sure. Just let me know where and when.

His phone quickly finds its way back on the counter, locked and conspicuously face down. Hajime staunchly ignores it for the rest of his meal, until chopsticks clatter into his now-empty bowl. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, sets his tie right and then reaches for the hanger behind him to shrug on his suit jacket.

“Thanks for the food,” he mumbles out with a wave, gathering his things and stepping out into the cool evening air—

To suddenly stop a little way down the sidewalk. The only place he has to go is an uninspired, empty apartment. Unless— _unless_.

It’s been a few weeks, and Hajime isn’t usually the one to reach out first, but he supposes this is a special case. He reaches into his pocket for his phone and is pulling up Minato’s contact details a moment later.

“Hey,” he says when the line connects, stepping to the side as a lively group of college students come laughing down the narrow street, “you busy?” Maybe this’ll take his mind off it.

A few weeks later sees him sitting on his living room floor, the low table in front of him hosting a simple but plentiful buffet of dishes—rice, miso soup, grilled meat and plenty of healthy vegetables.

Minato’s nose and cheeks are still red from his hot bath, dark hair an endearing half-dried mess atop his head. Hajime wants to reach for the towel still slung around his neck and finish the job for him, rough-tender in the way he always has been with people he has affection for.

“Have you got plans for Golden Week?” Minato asks him, reaching for the shimeji mushrooms Hajime bought specially for him with enthusiasm. “A friend’s parents have a vacation home somewhere in Aichi, so a few of us are going. He said you’re welcome to come along if you want to.”

Hajime blinks, eyes swinging upwards to look at him. Minato is watching him in turn, chopsticks close to his mouth as he continues to chew.

When it becomes clear that Hajime isn’t going to jump to accept, his head cocks to the side.

“That’s a no, then.” It’s obvious that he’s not annoyed at Hajime’s tacit refusal, just curious. Neither of them really gets upset at the other, which is probably why their arrangement works so well. “Is it because you’re older?”

Minato’s blunt as always. He’s artistic rather than athletic – had been working on some group art project with his classmates until the early evening today – and is more inclined to watch and listen than be the centre of attention. As a result, he’s pretty astute when it comes to reading people. He’s not afraid such direct questions, nor is he ever reluctant to answer them himself.

“Not really.” Hajime is infinitely pleased to actually have another viable excuse to refuse the invitation because it _is_ actually part of the reason he tensed up as soon as the invitation was extended to him—he’s almost thirty now, and would definitely feel awkward around a bunch of college students. “I’ve got plans already. I’m supposed to be having a reunion with some friends from high school that week.”

“From the volleyball team?” Minato asks, and Hajime’s gaze drifts to the TV so he doesn’t have to see the way Minato turns to look towards his bookcase, which features a few sentimental photographs dotted around the shelves in cheap small Ikea frames. “Will that handsome Oikawa-san be there? The one you used to date?”

'Used to date' is such an understatement, but Minato hardly knows better when Hajime has never tried to even express how much _more_ he and Oikawa used to be, so he just rolls his eyes and huffs at Minato’s directness. It’s—he doesn’t know if it’s a sensitive subject really, at least anymore. It’s less awkward because Minato doesn’t know Oikawa, doesn’t know how encompassing and defining their friendship and then their _relationship_ was for the both of them, but especially for Hajime.

But having it said out loud like that doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s infinitely better than pussyfooting around the issue like his old friends sometimes do. Minato’s bluntness is the opposite of annoying—Hajime actually rather likes it.

“Yep. Matsukawa and Hanamaki too.”

Minato sighs dreamily. “Ooh, Matsukawa-san. He’s so tall, dark and mysterious. I like the way he looms.”

Hajime snorts and playfully kicks at Minato’s bare knee under the table. “If you’re going to force me to cook you dinner because you’re sick of instant ramen and convenience store bentos, then you should eat it already, brat.”

He gets a grin and a coquettish flutter of long, dark eyelashes in response, and then after, when they do finally finish eating, Minato makes sure to thoroughly thank him for the food.

It’s rare that Hajime finds himself as far west as Aoba Castle these days, despite still living in Sendai. The only time he comes close are his occasional visits to his parents’ home, but even that is a short train ride away. It’s nostalgic to be here, as he suspected it would be. It’s the reason he left home earlier than he really needed to today, to give him time to roam the streets a little. He’s stayed away for such a long time.

He doesn’t visit the castle though, nor does he even swing by the iconic Date statue. Instead he skirts the grounds, sticking close to the river for a little while before naturally drifting away to walk a route memorised long ago. It’s the same and yet entirely different, and he can’t help but feel like he’s following a pair of unseen ghosts taking turns to nudge and shove at each other on the way to school.

It’s not sad—it’s _nostalgic_.

Only when the school building rises up above buildings on the horizon does Hajime stop to pull up the reservation details Oikawa forwarded him a couple of weeks earlier. His map app tells him the place really is close and before he knows it, he’s standing outside a neighbourhood izakaya. It sounds lively inside, and Hajime lets himself feel a little excited as he slides the door open, a wave of “welcome!”s coming from staff in all corners to greet him.

After giving Oikawa’s name he’s directed towards a nook in the far-right corner of the room.

The back section of the room is on a slight platform – Hajime toes off his shoes by the mess of other discarded pairs before stepping up. The floor is smooth, polished wood rather than tatami, but the table is low, the kind that has a pit carved out of the floor below for leg space if you need to stretch out. There are screens separating the different tables for privacy, and bright paper lanterns with beer logos emblazoned on them hang in gaudy rows overhead.

Oikawa is sitting with his back to the wall so notices him first. Hajime barely has time to feel his heart stutter at the side of familiar brown artfully-swooped hair sprouting over a laminated menu before Oikawa straightens up, big brown eyes causing Hajime’s steps to falter for a moment.

“Iwa-chan!” he cries, entire face lighting up.

Hajime’s still stuck in that gaze for a second even though he managed to regain control of his feet immediately. He smiles, soft and pleased at the familiar greeting, and then as he rounds the table (because of course Oikawa kept the seat beside himself free) he swings his eyes to meet Matsukawa and Hanamaki. “Hey.”

Once the greetings are done Hajime settles beside Oikawa, getting comfortable and taking a sip of the complimentary water already poured out for him.

The other three’s prior conversation has paused with his arrival, but the gaze to his right feels the most insistent. When Hajime sets his glass down and turns to look, Oikawa is resting his cheek in his hand, observing.

“I never expected Iwa-chan to be the last to arrive,” he says imperiously.

“Hah?” Hajime reacts with instantly, brows raised. “I’m not even late, idiot.” Oikawa hasn’t touched his complimentary otoshi, so Iwaizumi takes the cold dish for himself and tucks into the double helping.

“’On time is basically late’,” Oikawa quotes, and the exaggerated aggression in his tone tells Hajime that that’s definitely supposed to be an impression of him from high school. As one often needs to do around Oikawa, he ignores it and continues to eat.

“Well,” Matsukawa says as Hanamaki twists to call out an order for four beers, “I suppose it’s not a Seijou gathering if you two don’t try to antagonise each other.”

Iwaizumi sighs. “Please don’t encourage him, Matsukawa. And definitely don’t lump me in with him.” Matsukawa just shrugs those broad shoulders of his in response, a lazy smile curling at his lips.

The beers arrive and they clink their glasses together, though Oikawa’s ‘cheers’ is definitely more exuberant that the rest of them. Hajime wonders if he’s not a little nervous himself, since he always was one to cover his anxiety with flash and bluster.

It’d make sense, really. He’s the one who’s been jet-setting around the world for training and teams and competitions all these years, while the rest of them found themselves back in Miyagi after not too long. Their adult lives are busy enough that they don’t see each other as regularly as they did in high school, but they hang out enough to still be close.

That means Oikawa is actually the odd-one-out right now. Does he feel out of place?

Hajime can’t speak for the other two, but he and Oikawa only trade texts occasionally. He isn’t sure he can even recall the last time they had a phone call, let alone spoke face to face. Years ago, such a thing would be… unthinkable.

But things change, don’t they?

Even with Oikawa’s lengthy absence from their lives, at least physically, it doesn’t feel too strange to be here once Hajime settles into being beside such _presence_ again. They all soon relax as a group, and Oikawa is clearly eager to catch up properly.

They talk about Hanamaki’s recent wedding. Oikawa immediately dives into a loud lament about how unfair it was that he couldn’t make it (though he had certainly tried), and how Matsukawa video calling him in for five minutes to give his greetings from the other side of the world just wasn’t the same.

Hajime remembers that night, attending the ceremony and reception with no plus one, hanging back as Matsukawa and Hanamaki both tried to squeeze into frame on the screen just to tease Oikawa. He’s been bad with those kinds of events his whole life, and spent most of it lingering off to the side somewhere, uncomfortable in his formal groomsman suit and wondering what the night might have been like if Oikawa had been there.

There’d been some fun parts of course—Iwaizumi will never forget Mr. and Mrs. Hanamaki’s first dance for the rest of his life—but while Hanamaki blushes and smiles at the recollection of the day, Matsukawa and Hajime play down the event as much as they can so Oikawa doesn’t feel too left out.

Three beers in Matsukawa is pulling out his phone to show off photos of Haruka-chan, his pride and joy at only three years old, who has inherited his wispy curls but thankfully not his eyebrows. The last time Oikawa visited was a couple of years ago, and he coos over how much she’s grown since he last saw her in person, how pretty she is, and immediately demands Matsukawa sends him photos more often.

Matsukawa urges Hajime into recounting the time he took Haruka to the aquarium a couple of months previous. They all laugh when he reaches the climax of the story—when the lady who lets the kids hold the starfish mistakenly referred to Hajime as Haruka’s dad and she loudly corrected her, declaring he was her boyfriend. Mortifying at the time, but actually really fucking funny in retrospect.

They order food in batches, and soon the table is covered in dishes ranging from untouched to scraped clean already. It’s like a family meal, with everyone sharing everything and engaging lively conversation. Hajime had been concerned about it feeling awkward, but it feels a lot like slipping into a warm sweater at the start of Fall after months of not needing it. Familiar. Comfortable.

“So _Iwaizumi_ ,” Hanamaki begins when he and Matsukawa have finished catching Oikawa up on everything going on in their own lives. Even just from the way he says his name Hajime _knows_ where this is going, “how’s Minato-kun?”

He curses mentally and then kicks Hanamaki in the shin under the table for good measure. Hanamaki no-sells it, his expression a blank show at innocence that says ‘I know exactly what I’m doing but I’m going to pretend I have no idea’.

Matsukawa hides his smirk by taking a sip of beer and Hajime _wishes_ he could somehow reach out and kick him, too.

It doesn’t matter now anyway, because Oikawa has already taken the bait laid out for him: “oh? Who’s Minato-kun?”

Oikawa is clearly curious, and the way he leans in and presses Hajime into answering with his big, brown eyes has no deeper meaning than a friend curious about another friend’s life. There’s no jealousy, and Hajime doesn’t know how to feel about that. Which would he consider worse – Oikawa being simply _interested_ in this news as he is now, or Oikawa being jealous and pressing for more information because of it?

“He’s fine,” he says to the initial question, forcing nonchalance and hoping that will suppress the tension he feels at his shoulders and the warmth threatening to creep up his neck. If he could just nip it in the bud now—

“Oho,” Oikawa coos, like he’s just hit on the scoop of the century, “Iwa-chan, do you have a _boyfriend_?”

“No,” comes the three-fold answer, though Hanamaki and Matsukawa are definitely making fun of his predictable answer by joining in with him.

Oikawa nudges him with a grin on his face, knowing there's more to the story, and Hajime is rolling his eyes. “I do _not_ —” he starts to loudly declare, and then remembers himself and casts a furtive glance around before lowering his tone, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Who is this Minato-kun then?”

Hanamaki leans forward, and even though there’s a table between them, Hajimestill instinctively pulls back with a grimace. Hanamaki’s eyelids are at half-mast as he rests his shit-eating grin on linked fingers, infinitely pleased to taunt Iwaizumi even a little bit. “It’s called _‘friends with benefits’_ Oikawa-kun,” he says with a leer, and Hajime chokes on nothing.

“Hanama—”

“Minato-kun,” Matsukawa pushes in, enunciating every syllable clearly to quash Iwaizumi’s protest, “is a very sweet _university student_ that Iwaizumi has an _'arrangement'_ with.” Hajime can hear the sarcastic finger quotes in his friend’s tone and it makes his forehead wrinkle and his back hunch.

“Iwa-chan?! A university student??? That’s very scandalous of you!!”

Hajime sends Matsukawa and Hanamaki a savage look before he sighs and turns to Oikawa. “It’s not like he’s a _high schooler_ ,” he says, which now that he’s said it sounds like the absolute worst defence. “He’s a legal adult. And he’s more mature than _most people at this table_.”

Oikawa has a grin on his face—the shit-eating one he wears when he’s _not_ the target of teasing for once and is relishing the chance to join in. “Mature enough to have a _friends with benefits_ arrangement, it seems,” he teases in good nature.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and hides his face with a long swig of his beer. Discomfort about talking about his casual hook-ups with his _ex_ itches at his throat and he wishes fervently for the ground to swallow him whole. Oikawa isn’t the least bit jealous – his ribbing is clearly the same kind of friendly mischief as Hanamaki’s and Matsukawa’s, but the fact that he and Hajime were together, were in _love_ at one point, means that Hajime believes that this should feel weird. _Oikawa_ should feel weird, right?

Does he _want_ Oikawa to be jealous?

Fuck. He doesn’t even want to think about that.

Latching onto the first form of escape that appears in his brain, Hajime slams his beer down and rounds on Matsukawa. “I don’t know why you’re bringing this up, since _yo_ _u’re_ the one he has a crush on.”

Matsukawa looks caught for a second, but then he laughs. “Yeah,” he allows, because Minato isn’t shy about laying the compliments onto Matsukawa, about his height or his sense of fashion or his hair. “But it’s still you he likes best. And you almost sound jealous, Iwaizumi- _kun._ ”

Hajime hates him. So much. “I’m not jealous of someone like you,” he snipes, but Matsukawa is smirking because Hajime played right into his hand. He sighs in defeat and relents.

“It’s not a big deal. We both have lives outside of each other and we’re fine with just hanging out now and again,” he says, though even he can hear how much he hates to talk about it in each word he says. There’s nothing wrong with two adults having an understanding, but the way he’s teased for it by his friends makes his cheeks warm. “I’m too busy for anything else. And my love life has nothing to do with any of you anyway, so.” There's a weight to the words he didn't intend on.

There’s a moment of silence in which Oikawa blinks, a complicated expression on his face before Hanamaki kills the moment with an exaggerated stretch and a slap to the table.

“Alright, I say one more round!”

Oikawa blinks and the look on his face from a moment ago is gone, replaced with a smile as he fervently agrees with the idea, waving and calling out for a waitress himself.

Ah, Hajime just made things weird, didn’t he?

He didn’t mean to. But he also knew it was inevitable he’d put his foot in it somehow; it’s why he’d felt cloying dread at the sight of the invite in his inbox.

Matsukawa shoots him a mildly concerned look and Hajime tries to convey the sentiment of ‘yikes’, or maybe ‘my bad’, without actually moving a muscle.

Someone—Hajime isn’t sure who—rescues the mood by changing the topic. He’s happy just to observe and listen while he internally beats himself up, faking nonchalance by sipping at his fresh beer every couple of minutes like clockwork.

Half-way through the glass the conversation tapers off. There’s something about the air around them that does it, and Hajime feels… somewhere between expectant and anxious the way Oikawa goes quiet.

It's obvious to all of them that Oikawa hasn't given them any more than a few passing comments about his own life. Iwaizumi's update hadn't gone far beyond the vaguely mortifying conversation about Minato, admittedly because he has nothing else really going on. Oikawa's next up in the rotation, and for him to have come home and invited them for a reunion in the first place, there's got to be _something._

“You know, I did really just want to see you guys…” All three of them are already watching him as he finally speaks. There’s a small smile on his face as he looks down as his own beer, clutching it with both hands and swiping a thumb across the condensation, but Hajime can’t quite identify it. He's too busy becoming all too aware of his own breathing.

“But I have to be honest... I did come back home for a reason.” Hajime’s heartbeat picks up at a crazy pace. He thinks he might have forgotten how to breathe. “And I have something to tell you all—”

Oh _shit_. Hajime doesn’t know exactly what’s coming but he has an _idea_ , because they’re all a certain age and at a certain point in their lives and it’s something important enough that he has come home just to tell them, and probably his family, face to face.

And though he’s come to accept this being a real possibility over the past few years, the knowledge that such a thing might actually be here at last makes his stomach feel as though it’s rolling on itself.

Oikawa looks up, casting a cautious but also inherently excited look at each of them in turn. His gaze lands on Hajime last, but he makes sure to look away before he speaks. He eyes scrunch shut, and Hajime knows intrinsically, in the way he has always _known_ with Oikawa, that the megawatt showman smile on his face is covering something else up.

In that moment before it happens, they both know Oikawa could be about to deal the killing blow. Hajime’s heart stops, and he watches the tendons stand out at Oikawa’s wrist as the squeezes his fist tighter before he just fucking says it:

“I’m engaged.”

There’s a second of silence, and Hajime allows slack, blind panic to take over his face for just that tiny sliver of time, until Oikawa opens his eyes and Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s mouths change from broadcasting their surprise to uttering eager congratulations.

But Oikawa’s tense, vibrating slightly, and it’s not from the inextinguishable excitement that had coloured his voice during his brief, but no less momentous, announcement.

Hajime belatedly realises that it’s because of _him_ , that Oikawa is preparing himself for his reaction specifically.

That clears the fog in his mind immediately, and it’s really not that difficult for him to summon a genuine smile to his lips. “That’s awesome, Shittykawa,” he says, slapping Oikawa between the shoulder blades.

Only a second later does the realisation drop on him like a boulder—he didn’t even have to force himself to say it. He really is happy for him.

Oikawa turns to him just slightly, and delight takes over his face. He’s relieved of course, but also just… ecstatic. It’s like now the cat’s finally out of the bag and he’s waited to see Hajime’s reaction he’s finally allowing himself to unleash all of the excitement that he feels.

It _radiates_ from him, this pure joy and love and exuberance and Hajime’s chest might tighten a little at the sight of it because that used to be _his,_ but it also makes him feel emphatically glad to see him wear that again, even if it’s for someone else.

Because it’s proof that Oikawa can still feel that. Has found someone who can _make_ him feel that. And Oikawa might be Hajime’s ex, but more importantly he was his best friend before that, and always will be. Forever. And his best friend is happy and excited and in love and embarking on something big and that’s actually pretty awesome.

Whatever tension had stretched over the table at the sudden announcement snaps with that, and Hanamaki is calling for a bottle of expensive sake to celebrate, everyone at the table so much more animated than before.

Questions ensue – Oikawa is notoriously private about that sort of thing, and with his schedule as hectic as it is, the frequency and length of his check-ins have long-since been less than any of them would like. Oikawa is happy but also sweetly shy as he tells them the story of how he and his fiancée met and what she’s like.

_She_.

It’s a bittersweet feeling in Hajime’s chest. He’s always known deep down that Oikawa would end up with a woman. It’s almost a compliment, that their love had transcended thar, that Oikawa liked and loved him enough to be with him over the pretty girls he’d always generally preferred.

But still, a dark, sad part of him wonders if that wasn’t what made the break-up inevitable.

First loves, though. They’re different, unforgettable. Everlasting and enduring, apparently, though the ways in which they are so aren’t always what one might think.

After a little while of this happy, excited chatter Hajime excuses himself for a toilet break. After Oikawa’s news he _knows_ it’s going to be an opportunity for the others to talk about him while he’s gone, but it’s impossible to hold out with all they’re drinking. He supposes that’s something that he’s just going to have to accept, and the brief awkwardness almost guaranteed on his return to the table is going to be better than refusing himself the piss he so desperately needs.

Except it’s so much worse than that when he heads back across the izakaya to the table: when he arrives, two of the seats are conspicuously empty and Oikawa is watching him—not quite wary, but something close to it.

“Mattsun said he should probably get home to his family, and Makki said he’d go back with him since they’ll be catching the same train,” Oikawa explains, though the absence of any of their belongings had told Hajime as much already. He'll kill them—this reeks of an intervention.

It’s so transparent and Iwaizumi sighs. There’s a couple of bills stacked in front of Oikawa—undoubtedly the others' share of the fee—and before he can even sit down a waitress brings over their bill on a metal dish. “Alright,” Hajime says, trying not to sound as weary as he feels, “shall we head out then too?”

Oikawa nods and they both grab their things, leaving the scarce leftovers of their surprisingly pleasant reunion on the table. They settle the bill at the desk by the door and step out into the early May evening. The warmth of the day has dropped off for the most part, and Hajime shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket as Oikawa fastens up the buttons of another supposedly fashionable cardigan.

“These streets are nostalgic, aren’t they?” Oikawa asks softly as they set off meandering through the neighbourhood. Their pace is slow, and Hajime is aware they’re heading in the vague direction of the train station, but neither says a word when they end up turning down a street that’ll make that journey a little longer.

Hajime quirks a lopsided smile at that. The soft, unintrusive yearning for the past wells up again now that Oikawa has brought it up. “Yeah. I walked around a little before I came to the izakaya,” he admits, catching a glimpse of a soft smile on Oikawa’s face out of the corner of his eye.

They fall quiet again and it’s… so strange that they’re walking the same streets they always used to, ten years later when everything’s so different. It’s strange that Hajime feels anything less than completely, thoughtlessly comfortable around the person next to him. Oikawa is his _soulmate_ —even if it has ended up being that it’s just platonic rather than romantic (as if that means any _less_ ). But even so, both time and distance have wedged a gap between them.

Well, the break-up did that too.

It hadn’t been a blow-up causing an irreparable tear in their fabric. It had been a slow, dawning realisation that it probably wasn’t going to last forever. Hajime had agonised for a good year after they ended it that they’d done the wrong thing by crossing the bounds of friendship into romance in the first place. Something _he'd_ been the one to push for.

After the split, their friendship became different, somehow misplaced. Awkward when before it had only ever been natural, intuitive. He thought they— _he_ —had ruined them forever, and blamed himself. But now, years later, he wouldn’t change a thing.

He still loves Oikawa—always will, probably. Being _together_ in that way… Hajime is glad to have known that side of him. Glad that they knew that side of each other. He wouldn't take it back. But maybe… maybe in the end, they really are better as friends. Nothing else had ever felt so momentous yet so easy as being Oikawa Tooru's best friend.

That doesn’t change the fact that after the breakup they’d let the awkwardness stew between them, enabled further by their diverging lives, and that has prevented them from getting back their precious, extraordinary friendship ever since.

Hajime probably deserves a larger portion of that blame. He had always loved Oikawa more, was definitely more interested in a romantic aspect to their relationship at the beginning. He doesn’t think he pressured Oikawa into it—not anymore. He knows Oikawa loved him back (Oikawa has always loved him, but for a time it was in that different, more intimate way too).

It’s a fact of Hajime’s life that he will always love Oikawa. But he’s not _in love_ with him anymore.

He’s known that for a while, but doesn’t think he’s ever been sure enough to trust himself with that. To trust himself to be around Oikawa without realising he'd convinced himself into believing such a lie. At least, not until now.

“You know, you didn’t have to orchestrate this big reunion to tell me you were getting engaged,” he says, forced casualness in his tone, eyes forward.

Oikawa’s steps falter for a split second but he corrects it immediately, and Hajime smiles. It’s only tastes a little sad on his lips.

There was a time when neither of them would think twice about calling the other _immediately_ with good news. That’s not the case now. Hajime is still working on not shouldering the blame for these things.

Oikawa says nothing, and Hajime can so clearly picture the troubled twist of his lips.

He stops just on the edge of a pool of yellow light from the streetlamp above, pivoting on his foot to look Oikawa in the face.

“I am genuinely and completely fucking happy for you, Tooru,” he says, and it’s not as hard to keep his voice level as he might have thought. “You are my best friend, you always have been and you always will be, no matter what. You _never_ need to be worried about telling me what’s going on in your life. Good or bad.”

Tooru’s eyes glisten in the light. Those wide brown eyes have always been the window to his soul, no matter how hard he might try to hide it sometimes. Right now they’re relieved and happy and sad and sorry all at once.

“I should have said that before now, I know. But at first I didn’t want to lie, and then I was scared to say anything just in case I might still be lying.”

He’s always been a direct person, but talking about things like this has never come easy to him. The words are hard and scary to say, but once they’re out he feels ten times lighter.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa murmurs. It’s quiet, only half of it spoken aloud before the sound drops off completely.

And then Hajime has all six foot (and then some) of Oikawa Tooru flying towards him. They collide hard enough that Hajime has the breath forced out of him, but that’s fine. Oikawa’s long arms wrap around his shoulders and he has no choice but to return the sudden embrace, couldn’t imagine himself _not_ giving Oikawa any comfort or affection he might need, even just as his friend.

It isn’t the way they held each other as lovers, but it’s just as reassuring. It means just as much, even if it means something different. They cling to each other for only a few moments before they pull away, but it’s still monumental.

And Hajime feels _okay_.

He didn’t yearn for _more_ for a single second. When Tooru looks at him with watery eyes and a quibbling bottom lip, he _does_ think about how beautiful he is—how could he not?—but there’s no desire there. He just thinks: _this is my best friend._ And it makes his eyes feel warm, warning him that he might end up looking the same way if he's not careful.

“Don’t cry in the street, idiot,” is his scoffed diversion as he turns back to continue on their way.

Tooru scurries to catch up with him, and of course with his annoyingly long strides it takes no time at all. Once they’re side by side again, he nudges Hajime’s shoulder with his own.

They turn right, a silent agreement to head more directly to the station now they’ve made the progress they’d both been hoping for.

After a minute or so of far more comfortable silence, Oikawa hums. “I won’t say we wasted time,” he starts, and that’s… surprisingly astute of him. Hajime will never be sure if he could have faced this reunion, and accept this very significant development in Tooru’s life, any earlier than today.

The pangs of heartbreak are sudden and impossible to anticipate. Their echoes will come back to him again he knows, though these days they do so far less often. It’s a long process, but he’s more sure than ever that the majority of it is behind him, now.

“And I don’t think it matters anyway,” Oikawa continues. “I’m glad we’re here now. I’ve missed you, Iwa-chan.”

It might have been cruel, even innocently so, if he’d said as much out loud any earlier. But Hajime doesn't doubt he means it; has been feeling that way for a while. They were both heartbroken, whether it was an even break or not.

“Yeah,” he says, grinning and shooting the other a glance. “Me too. I’m sorry I made you wait.”

Oikawa smiles back—a genuine, tremulous thing. Hajime still loves that smile most of all.

“No. It was me too, you know?” His head tilts back and his gaze lifts to the quickly-darknening sky above them, their footfalls echoing in the empty street. “I guess there’s no manual to deal with we’ve been through.”

They turn a corner and head down a familiar route, nothing more than a narrow path between two houses, barely lit with an overgrown bush on one side. At the end of it they find themselves at the top of a concrete staircase , and as Hajime pauses to gaze down at the tracks lining the road below, gleaming under the station’s bright lights, he hums. “I guess not.”

Nothing’s simple and everything changes—he’d heard that somewhere, or maybe read it in a book. Hajime’s almost thirty now, and he certainly believes it. Still, he doesn’t think anything about his life would be better if he went back and started over. Maybe right here, living this very moment, is exactly where he’s supposed to be.

Tooru’s halfway down the stairs before Hajime realises he’d stopped to ponder, and he hops down two steps at a time to catch up.

The station entrance is on the other side of the tracks, but as they approach the crossing the signal sounds and the barrier starts to descend. There are two boys on the other side, high schoolers. One of them is stood by his bike, hand on the handlebars and his hip against the seat. The other boy is splitting his attention between his conbini-bought ice cream and whatever tale he’s apparently regaling his friend with.

Hajime watches them until he’s hit by a wave of wind and sound, the passing train blocking his view.

“So could this _Minato-kun_ end up being your plus one to my wedding?” Tooru asks when the train has gone and taken its racket with it. Hajime cuts him a _look_ just before the alarm cuts off and the barrier begins to rise.

“He’s really not my boyfriend, y’know.”

Oikawa’s eyes are shining with meddling, and though his stance broadcasts how unsure he is about broaching this subject, he still pushes: “But could he be?”

As they cross the tracks, Hajime _finally_ lets himself wonder.

**Author's Note:**

> lmao i'm sorry
> 
> find me on twitter @[verbrennunq](https://twitter.com/verbrennunq)


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